


Suit and Tie

by Hoodoo



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Aftercare, Brawling, Breathplay, Choking, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Getting Put In Your Place, Injury, Not Taking Any Shit, Rick In A Suit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-01 12:32:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13998408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodoo/pseuds/Hoodoo
Summary: The newly released adultswim/Run The Jewels video "Oh Mama" has swept the fandom and ruined many panties. The following story is the aftermath of Rick showing up at your place, wearing that suit.





	Suit and Tie

He arrives in a suit and tie.

Sunglasses too, but those are quickly discarded, tossed aside with enough force they skitter off the bedside table and onto the floor.

He’s bright-eyed, pumped full of adrenaline, puffed up with the testosterone that hasn’t yet dissipated running through his veins. Blood, both red and bluish-green, had splattered in a fine mist over his face. He’s drooling and doesn’t care; he’s exuding a masculine energy that draws you like a moth to a flame.

Rick rushes towards you and you stand your ground. In his state, in this trumped up spectacle of alpha male he’s in, he still knows what to expect. 

He shows up in your bedroom like that?

You put him in his place. 

Rick rushes you and you meet him. You grapple him, you use your heavier weight to counter his forward motion. He tries to get you down, you do not let him win this wrestling match. 

He tries to kiss you, to distract you. This you do allow but it’s just as aggressive, smashing teeth together and nipping more than sensual lip-locking. It hurts but you give as hard as you get, grabbing his tongue between your teeth and biting with enough force to make him pull back.

In the push and pull of the struggle, you manage to hook you ankle behind his and using your own weight, drop him to the ground.

Committing to the action, you fall with him, atop him, and don’t even try to ease yourself down. His body is there to cushion your fall. 

On the floor with the wind knocked out of him, Rick still struggles against you, but you’re in the superior position now, and there isn’t much he can do about it. You shove his suit jacket off his shoulders. He tries to help, shrugging and grabbing at your hands as though their ineffectual. You see that his knuckles are split and the same mix of colors—red and blue-green—have coated his hands. 

The red blood is his, obviously, from the wounds he’s inflicted on himself while injuring others. There’s also tiny shards of glass embedded; you can see it sparkle as he flexes his hands. The movements he makes opens up the gashes again, and fresh blood oozes from him.

You do not want to deal with nursing him. If he wanted sympathy, if he wanted his wounds to be tended, he wouldn’t have shown up like he has. Instead of allowing him to coat you in blood too, you slap his hands away from himself. He protests, a little, by struggling more, but you once again put your full weight on him and he works for breath instead. 

After he stops trying to assist, you grab him roughly by a shoulder and yank him upward, like the most difficult sit up ever. You continue to shove the jacket off his shoulders and down his arms. Rick shifts his shoulders to facilitate the removal, getting his arms behind himself, but you don’t pull it completely off him. You leave the jacket bunched from elbow to hands awkwardly. 

From the prone position he’s in, you’ve trussed him with his arms underneath him. Your combined weight makes it impossible for him to wiggle his way wholly out of his jacket. The weight is also probably painful on his shoulders and joints. 

You don’t care and he doesn’t seem to either, as evidenced by the fact his cock is stiff under you.

Unimpeded, you slip your hands between the buttons of his shirt. You watch yourself for a moment, then hold his gaze as you pull the front of it apart, buttons flying haphazardly. His chest is partially exposed. You leave his tie alone but yank the shirt out of his waistband.

Working quickly, you undo his belt and fly. With only his briefs separating you from his cock, you notice a sizable wet spot on the cotton. He’s been sporting an erection since before he showed up in your bedroom; he probably got it beating the shit out of whoever or whatever put him in this state, and pre-come has left its mark.

Turning your attention to his trousers, you’re still not gentle as you work them down his thighs. Rick gasps as his cock is freed, and he writhes a little as though he wants to get his hands out. You slap him sharply on the chest, your hand leaving a red area on his pale skin.

He stops.

You leave his trousers and underwear bunched mid-thigh, then unceremoniously strip as well. At the sight of your tits and groomed pussy, Rick licks his lips, depositing more spit on his chin.

You straddle him again. He pushes up against you eagerly, but you lift yourself up onto your knees, too far out of his reach even as he arches his back towards you. His cock is deeply colored and hot. You slip a hand between your legs and give it a tug; he mewls at the touch and arches more desperately.

Instead of relieving his need, you let him go. 

He drops his hips.

Focusing your attention on his tie, your fingers loosen it a little. He holds still, a very faint smile on his face. As the knot comes undone, you slip the tie over the collar of his shirt and unfasten the last button that had been hidden underneath the tie. His shirt falls completely open. 

Rick waits for you to finish, panting a little now, those small sounds he made when you stroked him coming in waves out of his mouth.

Instead of unknotting the tie completely, you slide the fabric up under his jaw.

You flick your eyes to his. That smile widens and his eager sounds increase.

In a swift movement, you tighten his tie again, snug against his trachea.

Rick moans.

It’s not tight. It’s just a pressure on his neck.

You leave it where it is and grope for his cock again. Finding it, it jerks in your hand, telegraphing its eagerness too. You pull it again. You let it go, lick your hand, and coat it in your own spit, then hold it steady while you finally sink down onto him, your pussy tight because your preparation for this wasn’t as extensive as his. 

It doesn’t matter that you could have been better lubricated; Rick’s cock stretches you and fills you completely. 

You groan at the sensation. Rick groans too, and at the sound, you yank his tie so it’s tighter on his neck.

He gasps involuntarily. The smile doesn’t leave his face. 

You fuck him hard. You ride his cock like a professional bull-rider, rocking and thrusting and using your core. You lift yourself until he’s almost slipping out of your cunt, then slam back down onto him. You make minute circles with your pelvis. You moan and cry out at the pleasure that radiates from your groin.

Every time Rick makes a noise, you tighten that tie.

In short order he’s working for breath. His face becomes darker, he gapes like a fish due to the combination of heavy fucking and losing oxygen. Instinctually he thrashes under you, to free his hands. At no time does he indicate you should stop.

His cock becomes stiffer, an eminent sign of his mounting orgasm. You don’t relent in your movements, and rock backward for something different. In that position, his cock puts heavy pressure on your g-spot. 

He manages to squeak. You tighten the noose again. 

His eyes try to focus but can’t. His lungs want air. His body demands it. It can’t fulfill the need.

You wiggle two fingers under the fabric of his tie to give him a small sip of air. That tiny bit of relief, plus you continuing to fuck him, makes him come of hard he grits his teeth and tenses his entire body.

Another grunt escapes him, and at the first indication he’s coming you pull the tie again, robbing him of any more oxygen. 

His body jerks. The movement rockets pleasure through you as well and you have to concentrate to keep your balance on him as you come too. 

Just as Rick starts to go slack, you scrabble to loosen the tie. 

Automatically he gulps. His thin chest fills and it takes him several minutes before he can stop gagging and huffing. You remain seated on him, his cock still buried deeply within. Rick retches and coughs and finally, finally, with tears in his eyes, he’s able to look at you.

When he does, you carefully lift yourself off him. His cock slipping out of you is accompanied by a rush of come. You leave a large smear of it on his thigh as you maneuver to his side. 

He swallows like it hurts. It probably does; you can see clear evidence of the strangling you’ve given him around his neck. You unknot and remove the tie completely, then gently assist extract him from the rest of his clothing. His lower arms are as purple from pressure as the mark on his neck. 

Once he’s finally naked, you help him to sit upright. He still huffs for breath a little.

You leave him to get a washcloth, towel and first aid kit, then clean him. He lets you; after all that—from both the physicality he engaged in before arriving and your sexcapades—he’s tired. You wash him, pick out any bits of glass you find, and bandage his hands. 

Finally you put him to bed. He’s asleep almost immediately.

It’s a dangerous game you two play. Usually Rick is aggressive. Dominant. Holding you down, taking what he wants, clearly being the boss. But other times he needs a release, and when he’s overstimulated and wants nothing more than to be subjugated. You’re glad you can do both for him. 

_fin._


End file.
